


hallmark

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gift Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: Tatiana only wishes she had more money in her bank account to buy a gift with.





	hallmark

**Author's Note:**

> THIS ONE GOES OUT TO KYLE RGBOYS_ART, a good friend of mine on twitter, please check him out if you stan forsyth. my writer's block continues to kick my ass but i did My Very Best for him.... pls enjoy tatiana being a doof and zeke being a Sap

Tatiana thinks it is lucky to have a significant other who is quite nearly made of money. It’s nice to know that when his car has problems, there’s no panic or worry about finances, that he can just take it into the shop the next day and get it fixed. It’s nice to know that if one of them ever gets sick and has to go to the doctor, money isn’t an issue. It’s nice that, after living in a scrappy one-room apartment for a couple of years, she gets to live in a nice penthouse with a comfortable bedroom, a very good kitchen, and hardwood floors.

Tatiana thinks this is lucky since, for most of her life, she has been dead broke. Always affording rent by the skin of her teeth and eating the same cheap cold-cut sandwiches for her lunches, never able to buy a new dress or video game or other luxury. So, when she moved in with her boyfriend, she found it very nice to not have to worry that much about rent, or how she was going to pay for groceries the next few days. It’s nice that she gets to put a bit of her money towards a new makeup palette or a new thing she can use in the kitchen. She feels comfortable and happy.

It’s not like she lets Zeke pay for everything—she still insists on putting forward her own share of the rent and the like. She buys groceries, pays for gas when he drives her places, covers things when they go out on dates; all of this, no matter how he tells her he can afford it, because she doesn’t want to feel like she’s so heavily relying on him to provide for her. She’d like to provide for him too, at least a little.

At least the $51.32 in her bank account is proof that she's pulled her own weight.

Tatiana chews on the inside of her cheek as she stares at her banking app, and then releases a deep, hissing breath. Her heels starts to tap against the wood floors, and soon comes the pattering of paws as the dog approaches her, likely for some belly rubs or a snack. He knows she’s a sucker, but all she gives him this time is an absent-minded pat between his perky ears before tucking away her phone and going back to her work: Decorating the penthouse with all manner of Christmas-y decorations before Zeke gets home.

“What’s a really nice present you can buy with $51 and still have leftover in case of an emergency?” Tatiana asks the dog, who has flopped down next to her feet as she adjusts some shimmery red tinsel on the windowsill. “I mean, what’s a present Zeke would like that’s cheap? I have a hundred things I could think to buy him if money wasn’t an object, buuuuuut.”

The dog, a big, golden-brown German Shepherd by the name of Ephraim (which, Tatiana will always note, was not a name given by her; Zeke had the dog a while before she came around), just gives a huff and tucks his muzzle against his paws. He looks up at her with his big eyes, blinks, and then looks away, as if to say, “Beats me.”

Tatiana regards the decorated window, finding that the splashes of red tinsel flatter their snow-covered patio and the city skyline beyond it quite well. She reaches for her box of Christmas decorations, finds a pearlescent ornament, and tucks it into the corner to tie it all together. She sighs, shakes her head, and picks up the box as she moves over to the couch, which she has already decked out in handmade pillows and an appropriately colored throw. She’s just about done decorating, and everything is quite nicely covered in holiday cheer. In the background, there’s even some Christmas music playing, and she would say she’s in a very festive mood.

Too bad only having $51 in her bank account to spoil her boyfriend with kinda takes the wind out of her sails.

The dog comes after her, and Tatiana also notes, “I also need to get you a present or two. I bet you want a big basket of new toys, don’t you?” She says this, and Ephraim perks his head up and lets his tongue loll as his tail starts going one million miles a minute. She smiles and puts down her bucket of decorations, crouches, and cups his furry face in her hands to give him some scritches as she coos, “Ohhh, who’s a vewy good boy who wuins all of his toys and needs new ones evewy week? Is it you? Huh?”

If the dog understands her (something she has often wondered), he takes no offense to it. His tail thwacks against the wood floor and his eyes shine brightly as she keeps rubbing him.

Their attention is drawn away from one another by the sound of the lock on the door clicking, the knob turning, and the front door opening. Ephraim’s tail goes faster and faster still, he barks, and his paws scrabble against the floor for purchase for a few seconds before he takes off. It’s always the same when Zeke gets home: he comes through the door, gives the same exhausted sigh, and there is the prompt “OOMPH” as his dog tackles him like he has not seen him in one million billion years.

Tatiana stands up and brushes little flecks of tinsel from her pink sweater. Her heart skips a couple of beats as she watches Zeke shut the door behind him while trying to give his dog attention at the same time, and she wonders if she’ll ever stop having that reaction to him. His satchel is on the ground, but he’s still dressed in his scarf and coat and gloves—Ephraim never gives him a spare second to hang his things up. To be fair, sometimes she doesn’t either.

“I see you,” Zeke assures the dog, who has taken to whining and jumping up and down on his hind legs. “Yes, hello, I see you, I see-” Zeke firmly plants a hand on Ephraim’s face, blinks, and stares at their living space. He sees her, then, standing at the couch with a big smile on her face, and quirks a brow. “I see someone has been very busy, haven’t they?”

Tatiana smiles wider and waves her hands. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

The dog keeps lunging at Zeke, who sighs, crouches down, and hefts the big dog up into his arms with little effort. Ephraim’s tail wags harder, and he pushes his tongue against Zeke’s face. He scrunches up his nose and turns his head, but to no avail.

“Well it’s all”—He pauses to turn his head the other direction, only to have Ephraim follow—”very nice, sweetie. The de-” A dismayed sound of complaint cuts him off as the dog licks at his mouth. “The decorations, I mean.”

“Now we can play Christmas music 24/7 and be surrounded by constant holiday cheer,” Tatiana says. “Ain’t that swell?”

“Please, I can’t handle that much Christmas music. Don’t torture me that way.” Zeke drops the dog then. Ephraim seems to be satisfied with the affection given and wanders away, towards the kitchen where he undoubtedly has plans to sit by his food bowl and look pitiful. Zeke swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand before removing his gloves and scarf. “How long did it take you to set up… everything?”

“Oh, only a couple of hours. I decorate fast. It’s a talent.” Tatiana walks past him and picks up his satchel, hanging it on the coat rack next to his things as he hangs them as well. Normally they would share a kiss here, but she watches, amused, as he apologetically touches his lips instead, silently communicating that he doesn’t really want to kiss her after the dog just licked him there. “How was work?”

Zeke takes a heaving sigh and drags a hand through his hair. She watches the way he jabs his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Busy. You’d be surprised how many people like to commit crimes around the holiday season.”

She frowns and makes her way for the kitchen, where Ephraim is, as expected, waiting by his food bowl. She scoops it up as she walks by. “I’ll bet… It’s probably really easy to, like, shoplift and stuff, right?”

“God, yes.” Zeke groans as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter, across from where she is preparing Ephraim’s dinner. He tucks his face into a hand, then frustratedly removes it a second later. “It’s always just spoiled teenagers with rich parents trying to sneak $125 shoes out of the mall because it’s harder for them to get caught with all the hustle and bustle.”

Tatiana grits her teeth in disdain—she knew plenty of those types in high school. “Icky.”

“Icky,” he agrees. “Forsyth and I have been writing reports and dealing with angry parents all day.” Zeke shakes his head and rests his jaw against a fist; she can feel his eyes on her as she takes the food bowl back over and offers it to the dog. “When we have kids, can we promise to make them take accountability for their actions? I’ve had enough of high strung fathers storming into my office, saying their child did nothing wrong and I need to drop all charges. Children don’t grow that way.”

Marriage, having kids, it’s all stuff they’ve talked about before. Tatiana wouldn’t say that they’re giggly, nervous, and/or still adjusting to their relationship anymore, not after they’ve been living together for a few months now. Regardless, she still gets a happy little twist in her stomach whenever he talks about it, and wonders if he gets the same feeling when she talks about it. Knowing him, very likely so. “Well, hopefully they won’t be going around stealing fancy shoes for street clout.”

“‘Street clout?’”

“Street cred. Influence. Having street clout means you’re hip and ‘with it’ in regards to us young people, Ezekiel.”

Zeke shuts his eyes and smiles against his hand. “I do love these vocabulary lessons of ours, my sweet.”

“What would you do without me?” Tatiana asks. She passes him by on her way to the living room again, where she scoops up her box of decorations. She’s satisfied with the way everything looks at this point. “By the way, is there anything you want for Christmas?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He reaches up to his neck—Tatiana imagines he’s loosening his tie. “Mm. It’s been a while since anyone asked me that, so I’m not sure.”

“Don’t Mr. Rudolf and Alm get you something every year?”

“They tend to not ask. Usually, they just get me a few gift cards to places they know I like to shop, and that is that.”

“Oh.” Idly, she twists a fleck of tinsel between her thumb and forefinger. “Well, you’ll let me know if there’s something you want, right? Because I have to buy you something.”

Zeke looks over his shoulder at her, and she knows him well enough to know that that somewhat vague expression on his face is surprise. He’s not expressive usually, but Tatiana knows his all expressions, no matter how small they are. “You most certainly do not. I’m really content just to spend the holiday with you. I’m fortunate to not have to work on that day.”

An empty answer. People always just say “I’m just happy spending the holiday with you :)” when they don’t really know what to actually say. So, she’s going to have to find him something, and that something is going to have to be cheaper than $51.

* * *

A few days later, Tatiana has a gift to give.

It’s not for Zeke, of course. Christmas is still about ten days out, and she would expect to give him his gift(s) on Christmas morning, seeing as how they live together. The gift, rather, is for Forsyth, whom she meets for lunch on their day off. They find a quiet hot pot restaurant on main street, virtually empty save for them at this time on this particular weekday, and presents him with the bag she has been carrying around when she sits at the table, across from him and Python.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift.” Forsyth’s voice is bright, as it always is. Yet, she sees the exhaustion in his face, of course—like Zeke said, there’s no shortage of crimes in December, as it seems that people are emboldened, rather than dissuaded, to commit atrocities despite the holiday spirit. “There really was no need.”

“Just take it.” Python is sitting next to him, idly tracing a finger over a dish in front of him. He’s dressed in a stark contrast to his husband; whereas Forsyth is dressed in a button-up and a sweater, Python is wearing a v-neck unsuitable for the season and a cardigan. She can see the head of his snake tattoo peeking out from his wrist when he moves his hand, and wonders if he’s cold. Python has always been the type to dress for fashion’s sake rather than warmth, though. “We all know you wanted one.”

“Well, I mean.” Forsyth looks at her, his blush deep, and she just smiles back. He’s so cute. “I _wanted_ one, but it doesn’t mean she _has_ to get me one, because I don’t _need_ it.”

The paper of the bag makes a flimsy wobbling sound as Tatiana adjusts it next to her. Their food, which Python tells her they ordered before she got here—because they always know what she likes to eat at this restaurant—isn’t here just yet, so she picks it up and hands it over to him. “If you want, you shall receive. Here you go; made it myself.”

She thinks his eyes brighten a little as he takes the bag from her, as though she’s brightened up his whole week. She very well may have, if his week has been anything like Zeke’s, crammed full of jobs normally given to uniformed officers: Dealing with screaming parents demanding their disaster children be released, catching shoplifters red-handed, handing out parking tickets, filing report after report, all while still trying to keep up with their normal workloads.

“What’d you get?” Python asks.

His question is quickly answered as Forsyth rummages through the tissue paper and pulls out his gift: a floppy, knitted green sweater quite nearly the same shade of his hair. The front, when he flips it towards Python, is emblazoned with a large and fanciful Christmas tree. There are bells on the cuffs, zig-zag patterns in the neckline, random sequins sewn in, and all-in-all, it’s wonderful, if Tatiana does say so herself.

“It’s hideous!” Forsyth exclaims delightedly. “Precisely what I needed to spread the holiday cheer. Tatiana, you continue to be a mastermind.”

Tatiana grins and laces her fingers together. “I thought the bells on the sleeves were a nice touch. They jingle!”

“That they do, my friend.” Forsyth gives the sweater a little shake, clanging the small bells about, and turns to smile at Python. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

“You aren’t allowed to wear that in public with me unless there’s an ugly sweater party.”

Tatiana rests her cheek against her fingers, clicks her tongue, shakes her head. “Python. Every event is an ugly sweater party if you try hard enough!”

“We all know I hate trying,” he complains. There’s a shifting from the room behind him, and out comes a server with the broth to put on to boil. “Ugh. You’ve _enabled_ him. How are me and Lukas supposed to go anywhere with that monstrosity?”

“You’ll cope,” Forsyth replies, and then turns to Tatiana. “Sorry for not putting it on right away, I just am already wearing a sweater.”

“Oh, no big deal. The fact that you like it is plenty, and I imagine we’ll be seeing you in it at the holiday party.” Tatiana lowers her eyes to the pot, watching the clear broth start to bubble. Python picks up a lid, sets it on top, and she looks back up to them. “Where’s Lukas?”

“Winter break hasn’t started yet,” Python replies. “Two more days and he’s home free until the new year.”

“He’s staying up all night grading papers and answering emails from angry parents,” Forsyth adds. “He always gets so exhausted around this time.”

It seems to Tatiana that “angry parents” is a cornerstone of the holiday season for many people.

Their food comes out a short while later—Python and Forsyth have ordered thin cuts of beef and pork, alongside a couple of bowls filled with vegetables. The broth, previously boiling, has been turned down to a simmer, and they start to fill it with mushrooms and carrots.

Tatiana pokes at a stip of beef with the cooking chopsticks, designating it as her own for when the broth is ready. “I have a question.”

“You have two brain cells, of course you have a question,” mumbles Python.

Forsyth elbows him.

Tatiana’s lips quirk up. “He’s right and he should say it.” She speaks over the sound of another, noisier group entering the restaurant, and also over the sound of their broth boiling. “What do you think I could buy Zeke for Christmas with $50?”

Forsyth and Python share a look, then look back at her. Forsyth speaks up first, saying, “Why do you only have $50?”

“I work a retail job at a tiny local business, why would I have _more_ than $50?”

“She makes a very fair point,” Python interjects.

“Well, don’t you and Ezekiel share funds?”

“For most things, yeah.” With the cooking chopsticks, Tatiana scoops up some greens and tucks them away into the broth, where she stirs them in with the carrots and mushrooms and other assorted items. “But, I mean, if you buy someone a gift with their own money… Is it really a gift?”

“Hm. Valid.” Forsyth frowns deeply and clicks his chopsticks together, eyeing the meat on the plate between them all. He then looks up to Tatiana. “Er, what do you think Ezekiel would like? Any ideas?”

Of course Tatiana has ideas. Even if Zeke doesn’t know what he wants, Tatiana does. She knows he wants/needs a new desk for his study, because for a guy who has a ton of money, he sure does like buying things and using them until they literally fall to pieces. He wants a whole stack of books on various historical topics. He wants a new suit to wear to Mr. Rudolf’s annual New Years party in a couple of weeks. He wants a whole bin of new toys for Ephraim, he wants another dog, he wants a few new documentaries-

“Well, that is a lot of things, all of which are probably over $50,” Forsyth admits when she’s done rambling. “Ah… I’m trying to think if he’s said anything while we’re at work.” He keeps frowning, but mumbles a thank you as Python puts a strip of cooked meat on his plate. And then, he smiles fondly and says, “All he normally talks about is how much he wants to go home and see you.”

Her stomach does an odd little flip, and she blushes, tucks her face into her hand, and busies herself looking at the painting on the far side of the restaurant. “Oh.”

“I’d say if he wants anything, it’s you,” Forsyth continues, and then, “Python, if you make a sex joke, I’m going to make you sleep on the couch.”

Python presses his lips in what Tatiana thinks is probably a barely-contained smile. “Wasn’t gonna.”

“I know you were,” Forsyth hisses under his breath.

Tatiana sighs. She leans over to swish a strip of meat through the broth, slowly waiting for it to change the proper color. “He said he didn’t want anything but to spend the holiday with me, but I know he’s gonna get me something. I’d feel like a dweeb if I didn’t get my boyfriend anything for Christmas.”

“We’re gonna be dweebs if we don’t get our husband something for Christmas,” Python tells Forsyth. “No clue what to buy Lukas yet?”

“Ah, well… Lukas has been too busy to really think about the holidays.” Tatiana watches as Forsyth slumps, defeated, forlornly stirring his meat in some sauce. “Truthfully I think his concept of time may have slipped so severely, the poor dear doesn’t even know how soon the holiday is.”

“He just sits in his home office grading papers and drinking barely-caffeinated coffee.” Python throws up his hands. “They’re high schoolers, give them all a B- and let them go home!”

“Python! You can’t expect Lukas to give children who truly went above and beyond a B-, or children who didn’t even try a B-. What an abhorrent idea!”

Tatiana watches them bicker fondly with one another. She’s always loved the way that humor sometimes flies over Forsyth’s sweet head.

* * *

“You’re going to be home late?”

Late days aren’t unusual for Zeke. He works a job where he works when he needs to, and if he has to be working five hours after his shift was supposed to have ended, then so be it. It’s really not that unusual during the holiday season, but Tatiana admittedly feels a little put out when she cooked a nice meal of grilled fish, side dishes, and rice for them to eat. Zeke’s plate is sitting across from her at his empty place at the table, and she sighs.

“Yes, well.” There’s the sound of cars going by in the background, people talking—Zeke must be outside. “Something a little more urgent than teenagers shoplifting came up at work.”

Tatiana squirms in her seat, idly pushing at her meal as she balances her phone in the other hand. She hates it when his job gets… serious. “Are you okay?”

There’s hesitation on the other end. Tatiana hears, more distinctly than before, someone jabbering about putting down tape and bringing in forensics, and her blood chills just as he replies, “I’m fine, but… Do me a favor and lock the doors and windows.”

She looks over at Ephraim, who is sitting by the door. He generally expects Zeke home around this time. “Is it-?”

“I can’t talk about it right now,” Zeke says quietly. “But… we got here too late to arrest anyone, and the crime scene is close to home. Lock the doors and windows; weirder things have happened than a criminal finding refuge at the very top floor of an apartment building, believe me.” Silence, again, and then, “I’ll be home some time tonight. I’m sorry to ask you to eat without me.”

“No, it’s fine, really.”

There’s shouting from the other end, along with silence from Zeke. Hastily, he tells her, “I need to go,” and hangs up before she can reply.

Tatiana pulls her phone away from her ear and stares at the dim screen, heaving yet another sigh. She sinks down in her chair, pushing at the fish and pickled vegetables on her plate, and calls, “Daddy isn’t coming home for a while. You can stop sitting at the door and looking sad.”

Ephraim, as loyal as ever, ignores her. Until she offers him a little flake of fish, that is. Everyone has their limits.

“Hm.” Tatiana leans down and rubs the dog as he smacks his lips while he eats the fish. “Maybe what Daddy needs for Christmas is a less stressful job. With less murder involved. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Ephraim, still munching the fish loudly, looks at her. His ears are perked, indicating that he is listening.

Weak as ever, Tatiana plucks up a few grains of rice from her bowl and offers that to the dog as well. “I really don’t know what to get him for Christmas that’s under $50. I can’t dip into our shared funds… How lame would that be?”

The fact that Tatiana cannot afford one decent gift for Zeke pricks at her. It gives her a heavy feeling in her stomach that she is very well-acquainted with. A feeling which makes her ask herself why in the world Zeke would choose her, out of all the undoubtedly capable, financially-stable people he is acquainted with. She still doesn’t see why he would pick her, and she wonders if she’ll ever figure out why he fell for her.

“What do you think I should get him for Christmas?” Tatiana asks Ephraim. A couple of days have passed; maybe he has a good answer this time around.

The dog finishes licking her fingers free of rice grains, looks up at her, and with how serious his face is, she could just imagine him saying, _Treats. Get him. Treats. And then. He will give the treats. To me. His best friend. Ever._

Tatiana feeds him another tuft of rice, deciding to just not bother with asking the dog again.

* * *

It’s around two in the morning when Tatiana stirs to the sound of the lock clicking, the door opening, and Ephraim’s claws gently scraping on the floor. The low rumble of Zeke’s voice in the early morning hours is familiar, and it could never bother her. Still mostly asleep, she listens to him hang his things up while trying to appease the dog with attention. The bedroom door opens an indeterminable amount of time later, and Tatiana scrunches her eyes shut, pulls the blanket higher over her shoulder, and mumbles with some protest. His voice could never bother her, but light very well could and does.

She feels his hand, heavy on her shoulder, then his lips against her hair. There comes the sweet murmur of his low voice again, apologizing for waking her, urging her back to sleep, telling her he’ll be in bed in just a moment. Tatiana mumbles something in a vague reply. She misses the feeling of him when he slips his hand away.

“Busy night?” she asks blearily.

Zeke undoes his belt and slips his shirt off—she knows those sounds well. “Yes.” The bed shifts under his weight as he sits down on the edge of it to take his shoes off. Tatiana blinks open her eyes and turns, immediately greeted with the sight of his slumped figure. It looks to her like his face might be in a hand. “Busy night indeed. Did I scare you on the phone?”

Tatiana shakes her head no.

“I was only a couple of blocks away when I called you,” he explains. “As far as I know, they still haven’t found the- the criminal. I double-checked all of the locks and windows when I got home.”

Tatiana thinks he worries too much, and she must have said this aloud, because she hears the deep rumble of his laugh in his chest. She closes her eyes again and starts to drift off, but Zeke slipping into the bed with her wakes her up again a little more. He pulls her to him easily, as he always does, with a hand pressed to her stomach. Gently, he buries his face into her hair, and she hears him take a deep, deep sigh.

“Quite the holiday season,” he whispers to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t eat dinner with you.”

“Crime’s more important,” Tatiana mumbles against the pillow. “I fed Ephraim your fish.”

Zeke pushes his face into her neck. “I’m sure you’re his favorite person now.”

“Yeah.” Tatiana takes a deep breath and fumbles through the dark for his hand, still firmly placed against her stomach. She touches his fingers and wraps her hand around them. “Question.”

“Yes?”

“Mm.” For a while, she stays quiet as sleep tries to pull her back down under. But then, with the help of having No Filter in her mostly unconscious state, she asks, “Why’d you pick me?”

Zeke stays quiet for a long enough time she starts to drift back to sleep, but then replies, “You mean why I started dating you?”

He always knows what she means. “Mmmhm.” Tatiana turns in his grip as he loops an arm around her. She slings an arm over him, finding that his skin is bare. “Is it ‘cause I cook good?”

Tatiana likes when her head is resting against him and he laughs. The sound rumbles throughout his whole body, a steady murmur against her ear. She finds it charming, even when she’s mostly asleep. “It helps most certainly, yet real answer is rather cheesy, I’m afraid.”

“Cheesy is fine,” she whispers. “I just always feel bad, ‘cause I can’t do things for you like you do for me. Did you know I have $51 in my bank account?”

“I think it’s safe to say no one would date you for your finances,” Zeke admits quietly. “I don’t see why you should feel bad.” Then, he pauses, and asks, “Mm. I think I have an inkling as to what this is about. You wanted to get me a present, didn’t you? And you didn’t want to use any of our shared funds.”

Tatiana starts, sitting up a little to look at him from the corner of her eye. “How’d you know?”

Zeke picks up a lock of her hair to play with. “I can read you like an open book.”

Slightly more awake, Tatiana groans and flips over onto her back. She flops down there, frowning, staring at the pitch black above her. “I’m a total loser.

“I don’t need a present,” Zeke assures her, his voice still hardly above a whisper. “I told you the other day, being with you is enough and more.”

She turns her face towards him, a pout on her lips, scrutinizing him. It’s a shot in the dark, but- “You got me something fancy, didn’t you?”

Silence, then, “Um.”

She sits up straight and puts her hand on his arm. “You can _not_ buy me something probably more expensive than the monthly rent at my old place and then say ‘I’m happy just spending the holiday with you.’ What is this, a Hallmark movie?”

“As you might say, ‘points’ for making a popular culture reference that I understand.”

“I dunno if we can call Hallmark movies ‘pop culture,’ babe.” Tatiana sighs and shakes her head. There comes a scratching at the door, just faintly, undoubtedly from Ephraim dying to be let in. “Ugh, I’m a loser with only two brain cells and no money.”

“Who was it this time that told you you only have two brain cells?”

“Python. And he’s right. He should say it.” She huffs and lifts her hands, resting them on her face. “I can’t believe you got me something nice and I can’t afford anything!”

“I don’t need you to buy me anything. Aren’t people always going on about how the holidays shouldn’t be about worldly desires or something?”

“I mean… It’s still _nice_ to get people something.”

Zeke reaches out and pats her shoulder. She hears the rustle of cloth as he reaches down, grabs the quilt, and pulls it over her again. “I’ll tell you why I really don’t need anything, but it’s going to get pretty cheesy. Are you okay with that?”

She’s so embarrassed, she wants to just fall into a pit and live there.

“I’m going to tell you even if you don’t say yes.”

He won’t let in, and she is curious in any case. She nods, though he just said he didn’t need her to.

“You asked me why I ‘picked’ you out of anyone else I could have dated. The answer to that is the same as to why I only need you, and never any materialistic gifts.” Tatiana feels his hand rest on her head, warm and heavy. She starts to feel herself getting sleepy again, just from how safe it makes her feel.

“Is it now?” she murmurs.

Tatiana hears him hesitate: A little intake of breath like he’s going to speak, then a pause, and lastly an exhale. He does this once more, and then, very quietly with a bashful tone in his voice, tells her, “I think the reason I don’t need any sort of physical gift from you is because you’ve given me a more abstract gift to last a lifetime.”

She can’t see him that well, but she turns to try and peer up at him. Rather than his face, however, Tatiana is met with the feeling of his lips against her forehead and the sensation of his hand stroking her hair. She can’t help but smile.

“It’s embarrassing to say, but I believe you proved to me that it was possible for me to love.” There is that hesitation again, and Tatiana knows he’s glad to have the lights off. She imagines his face is bright red. It’s so cute when he gets like that. “I felt lost before you. Devoid of purpose. I thought I was incapable of loving someone romantically ever again. To think you cannot love is a horrible feeling, and I suffered every day for it.” Again, quiet, and- “Need I go on?”

“Yes,” she whispers immediately. She reaches up a hand to lightly touch his wrist; her heart is fluttering in her stomach, and she’s light-headed. There’s a tightness in her chest, along with a lump in her throat that she’s fortunately able to swallow down. “If you don’t mind.”

He’s so embarrassed that she can feel the heat coming off of him. “I- I just- I mean. I think that actually was all there was to it. You just… made me feel again. Feel love, that is. I don’t know how to repay you. You certainly don’t have to do anything for me. Helping me believe I could love again is something enough to last a lifetime.”

Tatiana remains quiet. Zeke remains quiet. She can swear that she can hear their heartbeats in the dead silence—until the dog starts scrabbling at the door again, which really kinda ruins the romantic mood they had going, but she can cope with it.

“I can’t believe I share my bed with a regular poet,” she finally says.

She hears a grunt, a soft splutter, and then squeaks as a pillow replaces his hand. “I told you it was going to be very cheesy.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” Tatiana protests. “Aw, baby, don’t be mad at me!”

“I’m not mad, just- just dreadfully embarrassed. I sound like I walked out of a very horrible Hallmark movie.” The pillow is removed from her head, and she hears a _WHUMP!,_ undoubtedly as he slams it over his own face.

“I think it’s charming,” she tells him. “And very touching. I can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t want to hear something like that from a significant other.” He still doesn’t remove his face from the pillow, and so she advances, sidling up next to him and putting a hand on his bare chest. “You’re cute.”

“Please, I am not.”

“Sooo cute.”

Zeke huffs and throws the pillow away from his head. She sees the outline of his face turn towards her. “I’ve embarrassed myself half to death, but have I eased any of your own embarrassed feelings, or perhaps convinced you that I don’t need objects?”

Tatiana hums and rests her head on his far shoulder, slipping her arm over his body so that she is nearly on top of him. “I still want to get you something.”

“I poured my heart out only for you to keep-”

“Something small,” she interrupts. “Maybe a book and a nice home-cooked dinner of your choice would do. And then we can cuddle aaaaaand-” Tatiana drags her tongue over her teeth, thinking, only to come up with, “And then we can watch terrible Hallmark movies. That seems like it would be a nice present for the both of us.”

“Watching Hallmark movies sounds like torture,” Zeke lightly complains.

“Oh, we can just kiss during the bad parts, sweetie pie.”

“So, the whole time?”

“I mean. If you’d like.”

“I… I would watch horrible Hallmark movies with you if it meant a few kisses.”

And that, Tatiana thinks, is a declaration of the utmost love if she’s ever heard one.


End file.
